


possidere

by minetokeep



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Kylo loves Rey, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Rey loves Kylo, Reylo - Freeform, Sappy, Semi-Dark Rey, So many commas, completely self indulgent rambling, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 13:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minetokeep/pseuds/minetokeep
Summary: “to have and hold, hold in one's control, be master of, own”





	possidere

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this is the result of having insomnia for two nights straight and being slightly obsessed with reylo.  
> Not beta read, and also technically my first fic so yay lol.  
> Uhhh, thanks for reading, please enjoy me spouting out words and putting commas throughout my rambling.

Rey never really had anything to call her own.

The cloth on her back, from Maker knows where. Her staff could be anyone’s, if they tried to take it from her. It may not be easy, she would always put up a fight, but it’s wasn’t impossible. 

She never had anywhere to call home. On Jakku, the husk of an AT-AT provided her shelter and a place to mark how many days she’d waited. She tried to make it a house, with her dying flower and worthless findings she called knick-knacks, but in the end it was no less a prison than Jakku was. She was a scavenger, and scavengers find and take and, well, scavenge, for something, anything, to call their own.

Her lightsaber wasn’t really hers, but that of a legend, a nightmare. It may have called to her and came willingly when she called back, but it wasn’t hers, not like she wanted. And oh she wanted. Rey may be light, she may be the embodiment of sunshine, but she was human, a human who wanted and wanted and wanted. BB-8 was Poe’s, no matter how much it liked her. Finn may be her closest friend, but he was his own person.

She didn’t even know if she had a last name.

Rey was no one, from nowhere, with nothing to call her own.

Until him.

Until Kylo Ren stomped his way into her life, swept her along into the storm that was his story, his family, his life. He was known. He was feared. He was a monster.  
And he was hers.  
He kneeled to no one, still alive that is, but he knelt in front of her and laid his heart at her feet. Metaphorically of course, though, if he could, he’d tear it out with his bare hands. If she asked, he would. That’s how much he was hers.

He swore fealty to her, and only her. 

He loved her, and only her. 

Rey never felt so powerful. She had power over him, he who was arguably the most powerful being in all the galaxy. She could break him. She could kill him. Strike him down where he knelt, and he would let her. 

Instead, she softly carded her fingers through his dark unruly hair, dragged them down until she cupped his jaw. She let her thumb stroke his ears, ever so gently, and traced one hand on the soft underside of his jaw, raising his chin to look her in the eye. Her small, strong hands held his face like he was preciously fragile, like the wrong pressure would shatter him into thousands of shards. As though he wasn’t the large, and largely feared, creature who could rip anything apart with his mind, hands, and lightsaber. As though he was made of glass. He looked up at her with what could only be described as the purest, most wonderfully awed expression. She leaned down and brushed his hair from his forehead to kiss it. Ever so carefully to his scar. The barest press of her lips to his skin, his nose, his fluttering eyelids, his cheekbones, tucking his hair behind his endearingly large ears to kiss the tops of them. Every inch of his face, peppered with the gentlest of kisses, each one making his heart beat weaker and stronger all at once. He didn’t feel smothered whatsoever, and when his lips were finally graced with hers, he couldn’t help but smile. It made his scar warp as she pulled away to gaze at him. A surge of possessiveness grew in her as she traced it with her eyes. His scar, her doing. He bore her mark right on his face, for the galaxy to see. To know he was hers.

They made quite the picture. Her, a petite and malnourished scrap of a girl, bent over a still kneeling hulk of a man. Him, a man who could break her with his pinkie, looked up at her as if she were the giant.

Rey, a nothing, from nothing, finally had something to call her own. She had a love, the greatest love, that was all hers. He was hers.  
Rey never knew a home could be a person, that is until her bones settled and her heart sang every time she felt him, near or far. He may have been a monster, but he was her monster. He was her home. He was her everything. 

He was hers, and hers alone. 

For she was his, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking it out.  
> Aren’t they adorable?  
> Constructive criticism welcomed! Anywho, have a wonderful day/night/endless float in the void!


End file.
